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Trying to focus on having a normal-sounding conversation with a man you would like to punch in the face is actually a lot harder than Miles thought it would be. It’s made even harder by the constant stream of conversation from the others, voices in his head that he alternately tunes out and tunes into when he needs to.
Dwyane Jones is a tall, scrawny white man that right now looks more like a punk skater than a cop. He’s got short, spiked blond hair with frosted tips and spiderweb tattoos up his forearms (they look fresh, too, when did that happen?). Miles decides to keep the conversation neutral. He wants to find out as much as he can before they get to wherever it is they’re going.
“You ain’t dressed for work.”
Dwayne smiles. “Not today. You know that skate park Aaron took you to?” Miles nods, teeth clenching at the mention of his uncle. “There’s a BMX competition going on today. Thought I might try my luck.”
Despite himself, Miles smiles. “They let old men like you in?”
“Watch it, brat, you’re gonna get old too.” Dwayne says with an easy grin. Everything about his body language screams casual confidence, but none of the amusement or affection reaches his eyes. “Old people don’t tag walls either.”
“Hey, I don’t tag anymore.” Miles protests. At Dwayne’s look, he adds, “Well, not where Dad can find them, anyway.”
“Can’t imagine you going out of Brooklyn.”
“I do it on occasion.” And now is probably a good time to point out the obvious. “Hey – Visions is the other way. You should have turned right back there.”
Miles, don’t antagonize him. Peter warns.
If I don’t say something, he’s gonna wonder. I’m not that dumb.
Dwayne just smiles. “We’re gonna take a field trip. There’s something I wanna show you.”
“All right, man, but you’re explaining to Dad why I skipped school.”
“I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Miles, Jefferson is with me. Noir says, cutting across the others. He wants to know if you have any idea where Dwayne is taking you.
He flinches, but there’s really nothing he can do about that. After all, someone is going to have to make the arrest. He just wishes it wasn’t his dad. Dwayne glances over at him. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah. Just – I haven’t skipped school in ages, man. This don’t feel right.”
Dwayne shrugs. “It’s not much farther. You don’t like it, I’ll take you back to the school. You’ll miss a few classes, maybe.”
“If you say so.”
If it’s not much farther, then it has to be – I think it’s the old art warehouse near the skate park. Dad’ll know which one.
There’s a pause while Noir talks to Jefferson. If Miles concentrates, he can faintly hear his dad’s voice through his bond with Noir. It’s – kinda cool, actually. Not that he can make out the words, but it’s definitely Jefferson.
Dwayne pulls around the back of the warehouse, and it’s exactly where Miles thought they were going. He can sense Gwen on the roof one block away, faintly hear her swearing up a storm (and yeah, she’s pissed – she’s gonna punch him later, he knows it) and he knows the others are about to jump there as soon as Dwayne gets inside and won’t notice the portal.
He makes a face. “Dude. This place has been shut down for at least a year.”
“Yeah, but it still makes for a great hangout.” Dwayne says easily. “I know I’ve seen some of Aaron’s tags here. Think I found some of your dad’s old tags, too.”
Miles swallows hard as he follows Dwayne inside. The area is vast, with a few offices in the back of the warehouse, old broken bits scattered about and crappy graffiti on the walls. His spider-sense is going off, somewhere between the gentle hum of his fellow spiders and the sharp prickle of danger. “Uncle Aaron told me Dad used to tag.” he says quietly.
“Yep. Then he went and became a cop and abandoned his only brother so he could obey the law.” There’s something about the sneer in his voice that makes Miles turn and glare at him.
“What would you know about it? You were in Long Island until like three years ago.”
Dwayne snorts but otherwise ignores him. He seems to be looking for something in particular in the rubble, but he’s still talking, and Miles lets him.
Just venom-strike him and be done with it. Peter urges.
I don’t think we’re alone. Just wanna make sure first. Miles says quietly.
Starting to regret this?
I’ve been regretting this ever since I got in the car. He can’t quite stop the pulse of fear, and Peter sends back reassurance. The others have jumped by now, all of them surrounding the warehouse while Noir follows Jefferson in. They’re maybe three minutes away, depending on how bad traffic decides to not care about the screaming siren.
Dwayne’s voice drags him back to the warehouse.
“You know, you would think with corrupt cops being what they are, that the station would run regular background checks. Financials, at the very least. I mean, I got recruited pretty damned quick, and no one even noticed.”
Miles takes a step back. “You’re one of Fisk’s men.”
Dwayne smiles. “Of course. Just an information peddler, nothing more. But soon, I’ll be something more.” He finally finds whatever it is he’s after, and Miles is not quite surprised to see him partially in the Prowler gear – boots and gloves, and that’s more than enough. The sight turns his stomach. “Did you know who Aaron was?”
Okay, this is bad. This is pretty bad, but it’s not horrible, not yet. “I found out after.” Miles says cautiously.
“Yeah, right. See, I found information one day that would have gotten me right up the ladder. Would have knocked Fisk’s precious Aaron right off his high horse. Then I found out that I wasn’t the first person to find Aaron’s big secret. That person just happened to vanish before he had the chance to tell Fisk, and I didn’t want to vanish. I just wanted to be Prowler.”
The idea of Aaron killing anyone twists Miles’ heart, evokes the feeling of ghost hands around his throat and that heartbroken Miles? that keeps replaying in his worst nightmares. His fists clench. It’s taking all of his concentration not to flicker out of sight.
Dwayne approaches him, and now Miles can see he’s altered the costume a little. The details are sticking out in his mind – the color is different, the claws a little shorter, the boots not as clunky. He’s streamlined the costume, and Miles would bet that the armor is being worn under his baggy clothes, probably in the process of making it his Prowler and not Aaron’s Prowler.
“What are you talking about?”
Dwayne still has that small smile on his face. “This is what’s going to happen. You’re gonna call your dad, get him to come out here. Tell him whatever you have to to get him to come here alone. And I’m going to give you to Fisk. Then he’ll see how useful I am.”
Something about what he’s saying doesn’t sit right with Miles. “Wait – Fisk doesn’t know you’re here, does he? You’re doing this on your own.”
“Not quite.” Dwayne says, as three other men appear out of the back offices. “I mean, you’re a cop’s kid, right? Can’t do this entirely without backup.”
Miles winces. “Aw, shit.”
/-----------/
Jefferson turns off his sirens before he gets too close to the warehouse. Noir drops from the sky next to the car, head tilted to the side. From here, Jefferson can easily spot Gwen and Peni. Ham and Peter are out of sight, and Miles –
Miles is inside. Out of costume, and completely helpless.
He might throw up.
“Okay, this is the plan.” Noir says, drawing Jefferson from a panic attack. “We’re gonna get Miles out of there – at least, we’re gonna get him out of sight. Somewhere he can either suit up or get out to you. Once he’s out of sight, call it in.”
“He’ll either be another Spider on the scene or a Spider that showed up just a bit too late.” Jefferson says. Noir nods. Jefferson sighs. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Suddenly, his phone rings. Noir doesn’t have to tell him to act normal when he sees Miles’ name on the caller ID. “Hey, Miles. Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Hey, Dad. Um, yeah, I – I wasn’t feeling well, so I just decided to go for a walk and skip homeroom, but now I feel really like crap, and I was wondering if you’d come get me?”
Jefferson closes his eyes for a moment. He wishes he could curse. This asshole is not getting away with this. “I’m kinda bogged down in paperwork right now. Have you called your mom?”
“Yeah, but it’s going to voicemail. I guess she got called in today.”
“Okay, kiddo. Let me let the chief know, and I’ll be right there. Where are you?”
“Remember the warehouse Uncle Aaron used to take me to?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I remember.” He pauses for effect. “Okay, I’ll see you in about 10 minutes.”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” With that, Miles hangs up. Jefferson lets out a shaky breath. “I can guess where this is going.”
Noir nods. “Nothing is going to happen. We’re making our move now.” He puts his hand on the cop’s shoulder. “Trust us.”
He’s gone before Jefferson can respond.
“You’re family.”
/------------/
Peter doesn’t like any of this.
He stays up in his corner, watching everything from above the back offices. Gwen is in the corner to his left. Peni is somewhere still outside, her mech far too large to hide in here, Ham is with her, and Noir is probably inside by now. In fact, the bond tells him Noir is standing just below him.
He doesn’t like that none of them are close to Miles if he needs help. Like Peni said, it’s not like he’s helpless.
We’ve got 10 minutes before Jefferson comes in. Noir says quietly. We need to move, fast.
“So, who are these guys?” Miles asks, voice shaking just a little. “I don’t remember them from the office parties.”
Dwayne dismisses them with a wave. “Just some people who wouldn’t mind killing a cop. Or Spiderman.”
Everyone freezes. Miles blinks. “What?”
“Why else would Aaron refuse to kill some random kid dressed like Spiderman? Never sat right with me when I heard, you know? Then I remembered you, and I thought, wait – that new Spiderman was about the right height to be Miles. Maybe it’s him.” Dwyane smiles. “Tell me, does your dad know what you do on the weekends?”
“You’ve lost your mind. I’m not Spiderman.”
“Well, not right now you aren’t. You’re out of costume.”
Peter feels it then, a flare of anger and contempt from Miles, and he smirks under his mask. Sounds like Dwayne thinks the venom strike and webs are part of the costume. That’s useful.
Can we move now? Gwen hisses. I want to end this.
If you can get to the ceiling and the window in the back, by Peter, I can get you to the roof. Peni tells Miles. It’ll get you out of sight long enough to suit up.
That sounds like a plan. But I’ll need a distraction.
One distraction, coming up! Ham replies gleefully.
Peter has just enough time to brace himself before the back wall of the warehouse explodes inward and a cartoon wagon with freaking rockets on the side flies into the room. Dwyane and his minions scatter, but Miles jumps straight up and hits the ceiling, sticking there.
Before Dwayne can recover, Noir and Ham jump into the fray. They web up a few of the minions – right as the back office doors open, and another six men with machine guns and ski masks come out. Peter curses.
Shit. Miles!
I’m fine, focus on them! Peter catches a brief glimpse of Miles darting across the ceiling and out the nearest window. Good. He’s safe, then. At least for now.
Outside, Gwen can faintly hear Jefferson call for backup. Thankfully, he hasn’t tried to come into the warehouse just yet. She doesn’t get the chance to consider this further before Peni, SP//DR, and Miles swing into action. She grins.
About time! she teases, dropping from the ceiling and on top of one of the machine gun guys. A quick web-shoot takes away another’s weapon, and she’s back on the ceiling before the third can open fire. I thought we were gonna have all the fun!
Ah, shut up! Peni laughs. You know I’m not letting the boys have too much fun without me!
Leave Dwayne to me. Miles says. He launches himself across the room, trying to get to the instigator of this whole mess, when one of the machine gun guys manages to get in a lucky shot. The bullet isn’t a direct hit, merely grazes his upper arm, but it’s still enough to make him fall from the swing and land hard on the ground. He’s back on his feet in seconds, but that’s long enough.
“Enough.”
Dwayne stands there, revolver not pointed at Miles, but at Jefferson. The cop stands just inside the warehouse, one hand on his own weapon, not surprised but definitely not pleased at the turn of events. His gaze skims over the spiders to land on Miles.
“You alright?”
“Fine.” Miles assures him. “You shouldn’t have come in.”
“Yeah, we’ll have that talk later.” Jefferson takes a step forward. Dwayne pulls back on the hammer of his revolver.
“Don’t. Or I’ll blow you away.”
Jefferson’s lip curls in a sneer. “You don’t have the guts to shoot me point blank. Last time you came after me, it was with an assault rifle and a mask. Or it was someone else on your orders.” In the background, he’s aware of the other spiders continuing the fight, making sure no one else attempts to take them out. They’re winning, he knows they are, but he can’t tell if anyone else is hurt. He takes another step forward.
This time, Miles mirrors him. Dwayne backs up a step, gun swinging between the two, unsure who poses the biggest threat. “The hell is wrong with you two? I have control here!”
“This isn’t control.” Jefferson scoffs. “This is chaos. This is a bomb ready to explode in your face.” He takes another step forward, the gun swings his direction –
And Miles vanishes from sight.
Several things happen at once.
Jefferson is aware of gunfire in the background, the rapid popping sound of machine gun fire, and Noir’s shout of anger and pain. Miles materializes right beside Dwayne, dropping him with a well-placed venom strike.
Someone from the back shoots at them again. This time, they hit their mark.
“Papi!”
Miles’ scream draws everyone’s attention. Jefferson’s on the ground, one arm pressed tight against his side to stop the bleeding, but what catches Peter’s attention is the way the boy’s entire body is sparking.
Shit.
“Up!” he shouts, just as Miles slams his hands to the ground and sends out a shock through the metal floor. The spiders jump out of the way, Gwen and Peni helping an injured Noir get in the air. The bad guys on the ground aren’t quite so lucky.
How the kid managed to avoid zapping Jefferson is beyond Peter.
They wait until the blue electricity finishes crackling away, leaving deep scorch marks in the ground, before dropping down and slowly approaching.
“Miles?”
“Papi, por favor, lo siento, por favor quédate bien.” The boy helps Jefferson back up to his feet, still babbling in Spanish, until Jefferson pulls him into a one-armed hug, and the kid sags in relief against him.
“I’m okay, Miles, I’m okay.”
The sirens rapidly approaching is what finally gets Miles to let go of Jefferson and back away. The kid’s still shaking, the pain of his own bullet wound starting to register now that the adrenaline has worn off, and Peter puts a hand on his shoulder.
It’s over.
Slowly, Miles nods.
Yeah. It is.
/-------------/
It’s late when Yu makes his way to Jefferson’s house.
He’s never visited this officer at his own home before, but, well – some things need to be said privately. If he’s wrong, he’d rather not get laughed at at the station. If he’s right, Jefferson doesn’t need the heart attack of someone potentially overhearing them.
Six injured spiders is enough stress for one man.
He knocks on the door but gets no answer. Still, he can hear voices in the living room, so he knows they’re home. He tries again.
The door slides open just a crack, Jefferson stands there, eyes widening. “Chief. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I decided to drop by.” Yu says quietly. “Can I come in?”
“Um, we kind of have company right now – it’s not really a good – “
“I know, Jefferson.”
For a long moment, Jefferson just stares at him – long enough that Yu is almost concerned about what the man is considering. Finally, Jefferson looks at someone to his left. There’s a bit of quiet discussion, and he steps aside and opens the door all the way.
“You probably don’t know all of it.” he says simply.
Yu takes one look at the controlled chaos that is the living room and has to agree.
Jefferson’s wounds were treated at the hospital, but Spiders don’t have that luxury. It really shouldn’t surprise Yu that Rio has taken up the mantle of the spider-doctor. Four of the spiders were wounded as well. Miles is already patched up, white gauze standing out in stark contrast to his dark skin. He’s helping his mother stitch up the Black Spider while the others tend to their own wounds. There’s one – the oldest of the group that looks the most like Peter Parker – who’s watching him with barely concealed interest, like he’s guarding the team.
“Aside from Miles and Noir, no one else was shot.” Jefferson explains. “Still, it was a hell of a fight.” Yu just nods. Jefferson continues. “What gave it away? We can’t have just anyone figuring this out.”
“The two of you started arguing in Spanish.” Yu says dryly. “I’ve only ever heard you do that with Rio and Miles, and all things considered, it wasn’t hard to make the connection from there. I doubt anyone who didn’t know you and your family would have figured it out.”
Miles looks up from taping off the gauze on Noir’s arm. “What are you gonna do about it?”
Yu snorts. “Absolutely nothing. As far as anyone else is concerned, the only thing I know about Spiderman is that he’s a kid and he’s got superpowered buddies.” he says dryly. “I wouldn’t have even told Jefferson, but I figured it might make things easier if I was up front about it.” Miles nods and returns his attention to Noir.
Jefferson sighs. “Thanks, Chief.”
“Don’t mention it.”
WHACK!
“OW! What was that for!” Miles yelps, rubbing his now-bruised arm (the one that wasn’t wrapped in bandages). The blond girl – White Spider, the others call her – glares at him.
“That was for scaring me!”
“Oh, come on, Gwen!” Miles whines. “That’s so not fair – at least wait until tomorrow!”
“I notice you’re not even trying to defend yourself.” the oldest says dryly.
Miles gives him a look. “Hey, I know I was stupid, you don’t have to tell me twice. But it all worked out, so I think we should save the punching for tomorrow, please?”
“You’re gonna wake up tomorrow, and we’re all just gonna smack you upside the head, first thing.” the pig says cheekily. Miles laughs, still rubbing his arm.
“Yeah, I’ll take that.”
Rio rattles off something in Spanish that Yu thinks might be a threat. He catches some variant of dead in it. The little girl laughs and responds in kind, which sets off the entire group chattering in rapid-fire Spanish that leaves Yu’s head spinning.
Jefferson glances at him and laughs. “Yeah, they’ll do that.”
“I wonder how you put up with it.”
The cop just shrugs. “Esta es mi familia.” he says easily. Yu glares at him.
“That’s not nice, you know.”
“Oh, come on, even you understand that.” Yu laughs, and Jefferson can’t help but grin. He sobers abruptly. “Any word on why Dwyane locked on to me like that?”
Yu shrugs. “It wasn’t you. It was Aaron. But you’re still alive.”
Jefferson winces at that, but he simply nods and returns his attention to the group. Everyone has settled down, Miles trying to braid Gwen’s hair now while Peni curls up in Noir’s lap. Ham is once again laying across Noir’s shoulders (Jefferson is with Peter – that is Ham’s favorite spot). Peter himself is sitting on the ground across from the group, watching them with an easy, almost relieved, smile.
Yu breaks the silence between them.
“At least tell me their names. I keep calling them by their colors in my head, and I know that’s not gonna fly.”
Jefferson laughs at that. “Okay, so – White Spider is Gwen . . . . “
THE END